


In The Wee Small Hours

by KatScratches



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 13:25:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3897979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatScratches/pseuds/KatScratches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny has trouble sleeping in old houses. Set during OotP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Wee Small Hours

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a new fic, but rather one that I've not posted here before.

**In The Wee Small Hours**

It was well after the clocks had struck twelve midnight when Ginny Weasley, feeling rather peckish, decided to steal quietly down to the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place. The darkness pressed steadily in at her from all sides as she crept through the sepulchral silence of the cavernous and cheerless house. 

It wasn’t _fair_ , she thought pettily, that she always had such trouble sleeping in strange houses – and Merlin knew that the ancestral home of the Most Ancient House of Black certainly qualified as strange. Hermione, with whom Ginny shared an upstairs room, managed to fall asleep every night within five minutes of turning off the lamp. Across the room, Ginny would toss and turn, often for hours, until finally slipping into an uneasy slumber. She decided crossly that Hermione must have somehow studied from a book how to fall asleep so easily. 

The stairs to the basement kitchen were well-shadowed and steep, and without the familiar glow from her wand-tip it was difficult to navigate them. Not for the first time Ginny wished that underage witches and wizards were allowed to use magic outside of school. At the bottom of the steps she paused, head cocked slightly to one side. _Had_ she heard something? She listened intently for a moment, straining her ears, but the sound – if indeed there had been one – did not repeat. 

_Probably just that horrible Kreacher_ , she thought, with an involuntary shudder. She self-consciously tugged her t-shirt down slightly. The shirt was an old one of Bill’s and hung awkwardly on her small frame, smelling vaguely of wind and laughter and Quidditch. It never failed to bring her comfort in this awful house, though she was fast outgrowing it. As it was, the shirt barely covered enough of her bottom to be called decent. 

_Kreacher be damned,_ she thought resolutely. _How Hermione can stick up for the likes of him…_ Squaring her slight shoulders, she pushed open the heavy oaken door.

There was someone in the kitchen after all, but it certainly wasn’t Kreacher.

Sirius Black sat at the far end of the long, scarred wooden table, his bare feet propped up on one corner of it. A three-quarters empty bottle of firewhisky was cradled in his lap, and he rubbed his thumb absently across its rim as he eyed Ginny thoughtfully.

Ginny stopped where she was, framed in the doorway. She was suddenly, acutely conscious of the way that her t-shirt barely skimmed the tops of her thighs.

“S-sorry,” she stammered. “I thought everyone was a-asleep.”

Sirius leaned precariously back in his chair, cocking an inquisitive eyebrow at her. “Did you now,” he said flatly, raising the bottle to his mouth for a long sip.

Ginny opened her mouth to explain that she’d been lying awake in bed, and that she just knew she’d never be able to sleep properly without one of the sour-cherry tarts her mother had hidden away in the back of the deep pantry. She suddenly wanted to tell him everything – that she _hated_ this house of his, that she hated having to live in its dark and ill-tempered rooms for the summer. She wanted to tell him that she hated that he was here, in his own kitchen, setting her nerves on edge when all she’d wanted was a simple midnight snack. She wanted to stop hating everything; it was bloody _exhausting_.

Instead she closed her mouth and said nothing.

“Kneazle got your tongue?” he scoffed, keeping his eyes on her as he licked a stray drop from the rim of the bottle.

“No,” she said angrily, finding her voice. “I just wanted a snack, that’s all.”

Sirius waved his arm towards the pantry at the other end of the kitchen. “No one’s stopping you,” he said. He watched her, a tiny smile flitting across his lips, as Ginny shuffled across the kitchen while trying to unobtrusively pull her t-shirt down as far as it would go. 

The tarts were right where she remembered them, half-tucked behind a large sack of sprouting potatoes and an odd purple cheese with a rather thick and nubbly rind. The tarts been charmed to stay pleasantly warm, and as Ginny reached for one, their sweet and fruity odour wafted up at her. 

Her hand hovered over the tray of tarts for only a moment before she drew it sharply back. If she took one, she realised, she’d have to either eat it here in the pantry or out in the kitchen. She looked briefly around the cobwebby pantry and shivered inwardly. For a pantry, it was enormous, but awkwardly angled, the nearly impenetrable darkness swallowing up anything further than a foot or two away. No, she couldn’t eat in _here_. And that meant…

Ginny peeked out into the low-ceilinged kitchen. _Damn it,_ she seethed silently. Sirius was still there, and looking more and more settled by the moment. He unnerved her in ways she didn’t know a person could _be_ unnerved. Yet to hear Hermione or her own brother Ron speak of the infamous ex-convict Sirius Black, he seemed as though he should be able to charm the pants off anyone – not frighten a girl half to death simply by sitting innocuously in his own kitchen!

And he was _watching_ her, she suddenly realised, ducking belatedly back into the shadowy pantry. He’d been watching her watching him…

_Maybe I’m not that hungry_ , she told herself unconvincingly. Her stomach gave a tiny growl of protest which she ignored. _I am not hungry. I am going to go back upstairs to that horrible little room and stare at the ceiling while I listen to Hermione mutter in her sleep about Arithmancy and Ancient Runes…_

She nearly screamed when a light flared suddenly behind her, throwing the dusty shelves into sharp relief. A hand fell firmly on her shoulder, and she let out a startled squeak.

“You don’t want to scream,” Sirius said brusquely into her ear. “Your mother will come running.” Ginny clamped her mouth shut as he thrust his wand into her hand, its tip alight. “Thought you could do with a bit of light in here,” he added. “Never know what might jump out at you around this old place.”

Up close like this, Ginny could smell him – an oddly pleasant mixture of firewhisky, smoke and tea. She flared her nostrils slightly, trying to inhale the scent more deeply without being obvious about it. They stood like that for a long moment, Sirius’ hand still resting on Ginny’s shoulder, as he looked at her expectantly.

“Well?” Sirius finally asked.

Ginny gave a little start. “Well what?”

“Your snack,” he prodded. “I’m quite sure I heard you say you were hungry. You should try one of those cherry tarts your mother put in here earlier,” he added, letting go of her shoulder at last and raising his wand-light towards the shelf. “They’re really quite good.”

“I changed my mind,” Ginny said hastily. She absently crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing her hands over her arms. It was a bit chilly in this part of the basement, and she was starting to feel it.

“Nonsense,” said Sirius. He grabbed two of the tarts and propelled Ginny back out into the kitchen.

Ginny followed him over to the long table, her feet dragging in reluctance. She was starting to regret having ever gotten out of bed. She could just imagine her mother’s reaction, should Molly have chanced to walk in: “Ginevra Weasley! What on earth are you wearing? Have you never heard of a dressing gown? Are you cold?”

She realised suddenly that Sirius was holding out a tart to her, and that he had apparently just asked her a question.

“I’m sorry,” Ginny said. “What did you say?”

Sirius grinned at her. “I asked if you were cold.”

“Oh,” she said. “No, I’m… Well, just a bit, but it’s alright.”

Sirius’ gaze flicked momentarily down to Ginny’s chest where her nipples had hardened considerably in the faint chill. “Yes,” he drawled. “I’d say it’s quite a bit of alright.” And, blithely ignoring her astonished gasp, he casually slung himself back into his original chair, though he didn’t rest his feet atop the table as before, but stretched his legs out in front of him. A drip of cherry juice slid down the inside of his wrist as he bit into the tart, and he licked at it languorously.

Ginny took a cautious nibble of her own tart. _Delicious_ , she realised and eagerly took a larger bite. As she chewed, she let her gaze travel diffidently over the man in front of her. Sirius was slouched in his chair, head thrown slightly back, his eyes half-closed as he slowly licked the last crumbs of pastry from his fingers. He really was very good-looking, she decided after a long moment, even if he was surly and bitter so much of the time. And now that she thought about it, hadn’t even her own mother mentioned how much Sirius hated being cooped up in this house? And hadn’t her mother added that they should try to be as courteous as possible, especially as they were guests in his house? Well… why not? It wasn’t as though she hadn’t done anything before –not that her mother knew anything about _that_ \-- and there wasn’t too much chance of anyone walking in on them. It was nice to be admired, even if it was by a sour and likely psychotic ex-convict who hated being stuck in this house as much as she did. _Perhaps we’re more alike than I knew,_ she thought in amazement, surreptitiously looking Sirius over.

She bit back a small groan as her gaze traveled lower, noticing a very definite bulge beneath his loose robes. It was very obvious that he wore nothing beneath them. _Well_ , she reasoned, why would he? He expected to be alone. And, she wondered as a shiver of excitement rippled through her, _what boys and men do when they’re alone…_ Suddenly Ginny was rather glad to be down in the kitchen, alone with Sirius. 

He opened his eyes.

Ginny didn’t realise he was watching her, lost as she was in her own thoughts as she devoured her tart. Her own previous experiences consisted mostly of Ron’s inexpert fumblings as they’d tried to work out the mechanics of it all, and her own, more personal, explorations alone in her bed at night. Although, she reminisced, there’d been that one time last summer, with Bill, and again in a disused study last week… Unconsciously she toyed with the edge of her t-shirt.

Sirius cleared his throat, making her jump. “Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked curiously. 

“Like what?” she asked, hoping against all odds he hadn’t caught where she’d been staring, yet quite sure he had. 

“Like you wanted to eat me alive,” Sirius said.

So he _had_ seen! A laugh burst suddenly out of Ginny, startling them both. “Well,” she said, deciding once and for all to follow instinct, “maybe I _do_.”

Sirius’ eyes widened as he broke out in a wide grin. “Then what are you doing over there?” he asked, waving magnanimously towards the other chairs. “Sit with me.”

“Alright,” Ginny said boldly, and shocked them both by eschewing the proffered chairs to instead perch on the tabletop in front of him. Her t-shirt rode up over her lightly tanned thighs as she climbed up, exposing a pair of pale blue knickers. The edges of them were trimmed in lace of a darker shade of blue, which was now beginning to fray in places.

“Suppose someone came in right now?” Sirius asked, as he edged his chair closer. His mouth was exactly level with Ginny’s nipples, and he leaned forward til his lips were a fraction away from the thin shirt. “What would you tell them?”

She shivered as his breath ghosted over her right nipple, inching forward so that it rubbed across his half-open mouth. She gasped as his tongue darted out to circle the hard nipple through the threadbare cloth. 

“No one’s going to come in,” Ginny said breathlessly. “No one’s awake but us. But…” She motioned towards the forgotten bottle of firewhisky. “I mean, can you? You know?”

Sirius laughed, his hands resting casually atop her bare knees. “It was more than half empty when I took it out,” he said. “I’ve only had one good mouthful out of that bottle.” He slid his hands lightly over Ginny’s thighs, running his fingers over the lace edge of her knickers. As she moved to take them off, he said, “No. Leave them on.” He dipped his thumb down between her slightly parted thighs, sliding it over her mound. She could feel the heat of his hand through the material. “I like these,” Sirius added as Ginny leaned back on her elbows.

She was already wet, had been almost since he’d touched her shoulder in the pantry. As she leaned back, her thighs parted more, and Sirius’ touch grew more emboldened, rubbing the hard little nub of her clit through the moist cotton. 

“I can smell you,” Sirius said hoarsely. “I can smell how wet you are.” And with that he lowered his head, delving his tongue into the wet cloth where his fingers had been, lapping roughly at it while Ginny uttered soft, wordless exclamations. Her hands entwined themselves into his hair, holding him there while her hips rocked against his probing mouth. Insistently Sirius’ tongue pressed against the damp fabric, pushing it into her slightly as he worked his mouth against her.

Sirius pulled back to look at her, and Ginny involuntarily gasped as the contact was withdrawn. 

“I want you,” he said simply.

“Then have me,” Ginny answered.

Sirius bit his bottom lip, suddenly looking far younger than his thirty-five years. “I’m not promising anything,” he said quietly. “You know I can’t, but –“

“I’m not asking you to,” she said, and leaned down to kiss him full on his mouth. She could taste herself on him, and liked it.

Sirius chuckled then, gripping her hips firmly as she nuzzled a path along the line of his jaw. “It would have killed my family,” he murmured, “to know a blood traitor was sitting on their table in hardly more than her damp knickers.”

Ginny drew back, her eyes flashing fiercely. “I’m as pureblooded as you are, and you know it.”

“I know _that_ ,” Sirius said dismissively. “Your dad and I are cousins somehow, didn’t you know that? Why, we’re all just family here, aren’t we Ginny?” 

Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “What d’you mean by that?” she asked sharply.

Sirius’ mouth twisted slightly in a sardonic smile. “Just that you might want to be more circumspect in your other… ah… liaisons.” At her startled look, he added, “The study door doesn’t lock.” 

Ginny reddened. “Did you… I mean, are you…”

“I’m not going to tell anyone your little secret,” Sirius assured her. “But I must say I _was_ a tad envious of Bill.” He tugged at the lace-edged cotton and added, “You can take these off now.”

Ginny hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her knickers, and pulled them down off her hips with practised ease. “What about you?” she asked, tossing the scrap of cotton aside.

Sirius shrugged. “Not wearing any,” he said, opening up the front of his robe to prove it. He was already hard, and Ginny immediately reached over to examine his cock as he stood before her.

It was bigger than Ron’s, but, Ginny reasoned, Ron was only a year older than she was, and he probably had a bit of growing yet to do. Bill though… Sirius’ cock was not as long as Bill’s, but it was substantially thicker. She slid off the table, kneeling in front of him, and experimentally took the tip into her mouth. Sirius tasted different from her brothers’, she decided – wilder, somehow, more dangerous. _Perhaps that’s the difference between boys and men,_ she thought, and hastily swallowed a giggle. _But that can’t be true, can it? After all, Bill is hardly a boy…_

She drew Sirius further into her pink-lipped mouth, dragging her tongue along the underside of the shaft the way that Bill had liked, and was immediately rewarded with a groan of pleasure from Sirius. She pulled back, swirling her tongue delicately around the head as Sirius trembled beneath her. She couldn’t get much of him into her mouth, but that didn’t seem to matter to him. One of her small hands reached down to caress his heavy balls.

Ginny had barely begun any sort of rhythm when Sirius pushed her suddenly away. She looked up at him enquiringly.

“Sorry,” he gasped. “It’s just –“ He swallowed, then hurriedly said, “It’s been ages since I’ve been with a woman, and, um…” 

“Ah,” said Ginny. “So you’d rather just get on with it then?” She hopped back up onto the rough table, her thighs splaying naturally as she leaned back on her elbows. 

Sirius glanced down at her mound, lightly covered in soft auburn curls. “Lovely,” he said. “You _are_ a natural redhead.” He shuffled forward til the tip of his cock nudged against her opening. She was wonderfully, deliciously wet with wanting him. He glanced a question at her and, at her impatient nod, sank into her.

Ginny moaned as Sirius fucked her none too gently, one of his arms curled around her back to keep her from sliding bonelessly backwards. His other arm was braced against the edge of the table. 

“Not gonna last that long, y’know,” he gasped.

“Me either,” Ginny said breathlessly as Sirius’ teeth grazed her shoulder. She slid a hand down to rub her clit, occasionally reaching further to stroke his cock as he thrust into her. Sirius’ tongue had driven her tantalisingly close to the edge, and with each stroke of his cock and her hand Ginny could feel her climax building, and she surrendered to it as Sirius’ frantic thrusts became even more furious. 

She collapsed back onto the table as Sirius shuddered with his own orgasm a few moments later. They lay like that, atop the table, until their breathing calmed. 

“Ow,” Ginny said, with a laugh as Sirius pulled out. “I think I’ve got a splinter.”

“Mm,” said Sirius, dropping back into his chair and scooting it up to the table. “I suppose I’d better have a look.” He leaned down, tongue probing gently over her sensitive mound, licking insistently at their combined juices while Ginny quivered beneath him. 

“Oh,” Ginny breathed. _Delicious,_ she thought. _Delicious_. And as she came again, furiously, splinters were the furthest thing from her mind. 

Sirius pulled back, his face glistening with her come, trailing sticky kisses along her thigh. “I enjoyed that, you know,” he said.

“So did I,” Ginny said, “But I’d better go before anyone notices I’m gone.” She slid off the table, heading quickly towards the stairs. She thought maybe, just maybe, she could sleep now.

“Yeah,” agreed Sirius. He held up her still-damp knickers. “Want these?” 

Ginny grinned. “You keep ‘em,” she said, and with a flash of bare bottom she was slipped out of the kitchen and back up to bed.


End file.
